


Bless Us

by LinksLipsSinkShips



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-11-29 03:25:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18217553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LinksLipsSinkShips/pseuds/LinksLipsSinkShips
Summary: There was something unexpected about the way it happened. Perhaps there was more beauty in it that it was unexpected. If we’re being honest, we probably should have realized sooner than we did...





	Bless Us

**Author's Note:**

> I did think, let’s go about this slowly.  
> This is important. This should take  
> some really deep thought. We should take  
> small, thoughtful steps.
> 
> But, bless us, we didn’t.
> 
> _Mary Oliver

There was something unexpected about the way it happened. Perhaps there was more beauty in it that it was unexpected. If we’re being honest, we probably should have realized sooner than we did, which is maybe why when it happened, it all tumbled into something bigger so fast. Had we realized what was happening before it happened, maybe slow would have been the right process. And I did tell myself: slow. Slow down.

But by the time it happened, it had already happened. Why wait on something that we know is so good?

It’s funny how we didn’t realize it. Genuinely comical, really. We’d find imaginary relationships to work ourselves into, and the other members of it would change, but the two of us were always a part of it. Us. Just us. An ever-evolving range of other people, but us, connected, a thread holding us together. Double dates with girls, and they’d change but we wouldn’t. You were always by my side..

From day one, it happened fast, it happened slow. Before we talked, before I laughed until I cried because of how badly I wanted you… it happened so fast. It was like an on-switch. We started talking. And then we never stopped. That was the first time we should have known. In fairness, that’s why I think anyone else would have thought we actually  _ did  _ go slow. By society’s standards, perhaps we did. We went slow. We went fast. We went… whatever speed we wanted, really.

Mostly, when  _ it _ happened, we went fast. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the catch in your breath when my mouth found its way down your stomach. I don’t want to live in a universe where the sound of your whimper isn’t permanently tattooed on my brain. Some of it happened so fast it was a blur — perhaps that’s why I don’t talk about it often, because it happened so intensely fast that I’m scared I don’t remember — but I remember enough. I remember the way the lights twinkled and I remember how you sounded and how you smelled and the feeling of your skin against my hands, my lips, my body. You looked so good like that, head back, hand gripping the sheets, breathing heavy as I worked my tongue on you. It was the feeling of your movement when I’d kiss your thigh, the way you tasted salty and sweet and like heaven on earth all in one.

For the first time in a long time I had faith in something. My faith was hinged on each breath and movement, each response to the flicks of my tongue against the soft, sweet, juicy peach before me, your most intimate spaces on display for my eyes, my fingers, my tongue alone. It was like poetry, like rebirth, like sunrise and sunset and the ocean, all of those things I can’t describe but know I love regardless.

It’s not the kind of answer you can easily give: “What’s the most magical thing that’s ever happened to me? Oh, the first time I went down on you.” But it’s the real answer, the true one, the one I hold deep inside of me and think about when I’m alone and I’m missing you and itching to have me on you, you on me, again like the other times. I can’t imagine a more magical thing.

We didn’t go slowly, not in how fast you made me come, how quickly you took me past the limit of what my senses could handle and projected me into some other plane of existence. I’d never felt anything like that, not love or passion or joy or anything… not anything. I’d say it was unreal if I didn’t know how very real it was, how it happened, how it felt. I know it’s real, but that doesn’t mean it always feels that way.

It feels like in a lot of ways we’re hurry up, we’re wait. We’re non-stop for a weekend because we can be, then halted for months because we have to be. We’re slow. We’re fast. We’re everything all at once.

Someday I think we’ll be slow rocking on porch swings and fast trysts in the laundry room, slow kisses and soft touches, fast mornings and hard changes. I think we’ll be slow. I think we’ll be fast. And I think that’s perfect, because someday moments won’t be tainted with goodbyes and the looming sense of not enough time. Time will be infinite, or at least 300 years of it will be, and then we’ll have all the time in the world to take it slow.

Right now? Let’s move fast.


End file.
